Controller Becomes the Controlled
by Gomes
Summary: [GC] Something's going down at the Farewell Motel
1. Seduction

TITLE: Controller Becomes the Controlled  
  
AUTHOR: Gomey (grissomsgnome@yahoo.com)  
  
RATING: Strong R  
  
SPOILERS: None  
  
DISCLAIMER: All known characters and premises belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
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Catherine Willows stood at the doorway of the Farewell Motel. "Ironic." She muttered to herself, her eyes dancing towards her supervisor and long time friend. "Good afternoon, Gil." She stood beside him, imitating his pose: head cocked to the side, observing the two naked DBs in front of him.  
  
"Crime of passion." He stated, his eyes flickering to meet hers. Pursing his lips he bent down, clicking his flashlight on. "I'd say they were having a little ... party." His light hopped from the silk used to restrain the man's hands behind his back, and then to the blindfold covering his eyes.   
  
Catherine knelt down beside Gil. "So, woman tied up and blindfolded." She glanced at Gil, an impish grin in answer to his pending discomfort. "Kinky." She glanced back at the deceased. "So, the killer comes up behind, surprises them by waving his gun around."  
  
"Orders man to take the silk off the woman, and then the suspect ties the man with it." Gil added, walking around the double-bed.  
  
"Also forces the man to dawn the blindfold ... he's on top of the woman, pinning her down, so the suspect doesn't need to restrain her."  
  
Gil walked to the foot of the bed, then extended his arm, making a make-shift gun with hand. "Then BANG!" A melancholic smile flitted across his face. "Two corpses ... one stone."  
  
***  
  
Jim Brass walked in, his eyes scanning the notebook clutched in his hand. "Sherry Harding and Sean McKenna." He paused looking at the two victims. "Twenty-five and thirty-three, both from Nevada, one from Vegas, one from Reno. Apparently had been dating for awhile, recently got engaged." He walked over to Gil and Catherine who were waiting for David to finish his preliminary on the bodies. "Family said that she was seeing a John Jacob Tyler before she met up with McKenna over there."  
  
"Well, you know what they say, 'never trust a man with two first names." Catherine muttered.  
  
"Or in this case - three." Jim quipped before heading out the door, his mind set on locating his suspect.  
  
"Alright, finished." David said, walking over to the two senior CSIs.   
  
"Thanks David, we won't be long." Gil walked over to the bodies. Both of them started by just inspecting the immediate surroundings; each trying to recreate the moments before the attack, in their mind's eye. Gil walked to the right side of the bed, and observed the handles on the side of the mattress. "Cath ..." He held up a piece of silk. "There's still some attached - my guess is that the killer might have ripped the silk in order to tie the man."  
  
Catherine leaned over the bed, checking the woman's hands. "There are no ligature marks on her wrists. If it had been ripped, there would be evidence on her body." She walked over to Gil's side of the bed and bent down, observing the silk scarves. "Look at this, the way that the fibres are spread out would indicate a strengthened pull towards the inside of the bed." She headed towards the other side, noting the same directional fibres. "If you're an attacker, and you wanted to rip these scarves to use, wouldn't you pull them towards your body, and not away?"   
  
Gil pondered and shook his head. "So the woman did this?" He toyed with the scarf momentarily.   
  
Catherine shrugged. "Maybe when the killer came in and then adrenaline took its course." Catherine offered. She took out the ALS and put on her red shades. Putting one knee on the bed, she brought the light on to the female victim's wrists. "There is no trace of any silk materials on her wrists, Gil." She said, resting the red glasses on top of her head.  
  
"If they were involved in such an ... exercise, there would be perspiration ..." He fingered the material, "and judging from the quality, I'm sure the dye would stain." He checked the man's wrists and smiled at the red tint that waved at him. Taking out a swab, he glanced at his best-friend. "I'll send this to trace, but I'm betting that the she was the dominating one of the couple."  
  
"Aah," Catherine grinned, "a little femdom for dinner."  
  
Gil shot her a glance. "And murder for dessert."  
  
***  
  
Catherine sat in Gil's office, waiting for her supervisor to return from Ballistics. She drummed her fingers on the arms of the chair and stretched out even further. Her eyes roamed the familiar room, noting that it only felt comfortable when it's occupant was present. A warmth spread through her body as his image came into mind, and she let out a minute grin, the mere thought of him able to spark bouts of joy in her life.  
  
Gil poked his head in and let his eyes absorb his strawberry-blond companion's beauty. A small smile caressed his lips, and he let his eyes roam from her flat tummy, down her shapely thighs and muscled calves to her feet that were propped up on his desk. "Mi casa es su casa." He walked in.  
  
Catherine smiled, and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "So, what do you have?"  
  
Gil sat down at his desk and handed her a paper. "We recovered the bullet from McKenna -."  
  
"- McKenna?" Catherine interrupted. "But if they were both killed by one bullet, and he was on top of her, how did the bullet remain in his body?"  
  
"That's what I was wondering." Gil admitted. "But if we go with my theory that Sherry was dominating Sean, then it would make sense."  
  
Catherine nodded. "Well, it offers support since they recovered some of her DNA on the bullet imbedded in his chest." She glanced up at him. "But how does that bring us to their resting positions?"  
  
Gil shrugged and leaned on his desk. "The killer, maybe?"  
  
***  
  
"Grissom."   
  
Gil continued watching the microwave heat up his instant meal. "Yeah?"  
  
Jim stepped in and joined the Graveyard supervisor. "Talked to Tyler."  
  
"And?"   
  
Both men turned around to see Catherine walk in and plop down on the couch where Jim joined her. "Well, he was really depressed when she ended their relationship - had to take medication ... a few uppers. He was convinced that McKenna was bad luck and he admitted to," Jim paused trying to remember the suspect's terms, "looking out for her."  
  
"Meaning he stalked them." Gil shook his head, stirring his instant meal.  
  
"Yeah ... said that Sherry was pure and that Sean was the worst thing to ever happen to her." Jim added.   
  
Catherine looked at Gil. "Could give motive - he was tired of seeing her with another man. He goes in, finds them in a ... situation and goes berserk."  
  
Gil walked over to the table, setting himself down for dinner. "Makes sense - he then moved the bodies, placing Sean McKenna on top, and restraining him as a final embarrassment."  
  
"Right, he didn't want anyone to believe that she wasn't pure as snow." Catherine pondered.  
  
"If I can't have her ... no one will." Gil spoke for the killer.  
  
***  
  
Catherine lagged in the entrance of the motel room and toyed with the yellow tape in front of her. Ducking underneath, she placed her kit beside Gil's and joined her supervisor near the bed. "So, what exactly are we looking for?" She asked, her eyes looking at the blood-soaked sheets.   
  
"Here." He leaned in, shining his light on two sets of indentations in the mattress. "Notice how the smaller ones create and arch in the mattress." He pointed to the grooves, showing the evolution from a somewhat lighter pressure, going in really deep, then ending lightly again. "Kind of a ..." he took a deep breath, "rocking motion?" He felt the tips of his ears redden and he tried to busy himself looking at the other indentations.   
  
"Okay, so Harding and McKenna are rocking the boat, she's commandeering the wheel." Catherine commenced. "So the suspect comes in, shoots her at a downwards angle, getting McKenna at the same time."  
  
Gil's tongue peeked from between his teeth. He bent down at the waist, looking at the second indents in the mattress. "Cath, hand me the folder from my kit." He stuck his hand out, his eyes never leaving the mattress. After moments without a response, Gil swivelled at the waist, glancing back at his deity while calling out her name. He did a double take, noting her glazed-over eyes, and realizing that he was in her line of view. "Catherine?" He straightened and moved towards her.  
  
Catherine snapped out of her reverie, which had spawned from the lovely view that Gil had unknowingly offered her. "Oh, right." She turned around, silently cursing herself and searched for the folder in his kit. Finally, she turned around abruptly, running into his chest.   
  
Gil took a step back and looked at her in the eyes. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah." She breathed out, still holding on to the folder. "What are you looking for?" She made her way to the side of the bed, and began to examine the indentations on the mattress. "So what, the killer then leans on the bed, flips the bodies over so that Harding is under McKenna." She looked to Gil and shrugged. "The killer's knee indentations?"  
  
Gil shook his head, heading over to the other side. He held up a finger to catch her attention, and he watched her watch him kneel on the bed with a lot of pressure, and then stand up again. He held the magnifying glass over it and let out a toothy grin. "Come here."   
  
She acquiesced, and stood beside him, at his lower level. She peeked over his shoulder, then looked at him perplexed. "Your knee imprint."  
  
"Look closer." He coaxed, his smooth voice meeting her ears. Gil watched the top of her head as she bent down, peering into the magnifying glass he held on top of his print. He drummed his fingers against his thumb, aching to thread them through her golden curls.  
  
Catherine side spied him, her eyes levelling with his crotch and she took a deep breath, trying to gain control of her senses. "There are material imprints in the impression you left." She stated, straightening up. "My guess is that the larger indentations don't have imprints?"   
  
Gil shook his head. "Unless the attacker was wearing shorts." Gil walked over to the foot of the bed, and leaned over. He took out his tape measurer and placed it on the bed. "Sherry Harding was a petite woman, about five feet in height, right?"  
  
Catherine checked the folder and nodded a confirmation.  
  
"So, you see these indentations here?" He pointed to two even smaller ones that were more towards the foot of the bed. "It's about eleven inches -"  
  
"About the length of her tibia, given her height." Catherine walked over to Gil.  
  
"Right, so these here, would be her foot imprints, but judging from the impressions, I would say ... the top of her foot?" He glanced at Catherine for support.  
  
Catherine nodded. "Typical position if she was riding him, easier on the knees.." She stated.  
  
Gil bent down and measured another pair of indentations. "Now I can definitely prove that the larger knees prints are not the suspects." He measured the length from the knee indents to the foot indents. "Measures about sixteen inches, coordinates with his height of five feet, ten inches."  
  
Catherine narrowed her eyes a bit, advancing towards the foot imprints. "Toes?" She held up the magnifying glass for Gil to see.   
  
"Unless the killer wasn't wearing any shoes ..." He studied the bed, imagining the two bodies back in their resting places and tried to solve the puzzle. "Did you notice how Sean's foot indentations were kind of pushing downwards?"  
  
"Leverage?" Catherine grinned.  
  
"So at some point, Sean McKenna was willingly on top of Sherry Harding." The two CSIs shared a look. "And I think I know how the silk ties were torn."  
  
Catherine eyed him momentarily. "Really?" Accepting his nod, she picked up her kit and headed towards the door. "Then let's go work it."  
  
–TBC– 


	2. Foreplay

CHAPTER TWO  
  
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Gil followed Catherine, a perplexed look caressing his boyish features. He stopped beside her, and leaned on the counter. Watching the desk clerk make her way towards them, he gave Catherine a taste of his famous raised eyebrow.  
  
"Can I help you?" The somewhat chubby woman wobbled over to the counter.  
  
"Yea, we'd like to rent a room." Catherine said casually, ignoring Gil's shock.   
  
"Sure, just register your name ..." The woman handed Catherine a little booklet and went to retrieve their key.  
  
Catherine dotted her 'i' while looking at Gil straight on. "Trust me." She grinned impishly, and thanked the lady, sauntering past Gil.   
  
Gil cocked his head to the side, watching her hips sway, his eyes feasting on her toned -  
  
"- have a good day!" The woman at the counter interrupted his thoughts, and his head snapped up. Throwing her a guilty smile, he turned and walked briskly towards the stairs.   
  
***  
  
Gil followed Catherine into the room next to the deceased's. "And we are here, because ...?" He looked at her, his eyebrow once again in its pensive position.  
  
Catherine smiled cryptically and placed her hand over his, taking his kit and dropping it off near the door. "Research - now take off your shirt and shoes."  
  
Gil took a step back. "What?" It was higher than he intended, almost bordering being deemed 'high-pitched' and a grimace soon followed.  
  
"Shirt and shoes - off!" Catherine replied hurriedly, her fingers tackling his buttons.   
  
"Cath - Cath, slow down!" Gil grabbed hold of her wrists, acutely aware of her hands palm down on his exposed chest. "Cath..." He commenced, voice riddled with control, "are you crazy?!" Again, the higher octave sounded off.  
  
"Look, we have a theory to work out, and unless you want to spend the evening holding auditions, I suggest that you strip and lie down on the bed so I can have my way with you." Catherine kept her eyes glued to his chest as she watched his nimble fingers gently work his remaining buttons, one by one. Her eyes rose to meet his and she quickly moved to the closet - a blush lingering in her movement's wake.  
  
"So, Sherry..." he said, catching on to her role-playing game, "how do you want me?" He deliberately dropped his voice lower, giving her a sexy half-grin.  
  
Catherine spun on her heel, a shocked look dawned upon her face. Her mouth broke out into a slow smile, still taken aback by his sudden flirting. She turned back to the closet, rummaging while noting that her smile wouldn't dissipate. "Ah-ha!" She turned around, holding up three items.  
  
"What?" Gil asked, sitting down at the foot of the bed.   
  
Catherine made her way to Gil, and off his surprised look, knelt down between his legs. "Preparations." She winked, knowing that her words would be misconstrued.  
  
The words 'foreplay' waltzed through his mind, and he felt himself grow in the southern region. He closed his eyes in anticipation, startled that his strawberry-blond companion would take this charade to the next level. He held his breath until he felt her hand and he blinked towards his wrist.  
  
"Let me know if it's too tight." Catherine said, toying with the silk around his wrist, though her eyes strayed to the evident bulge in his pants.  
  
"It's fine." Gil finally managed to say, as she had just finished tying the second one. He refused to admit the tingling feeling the surfaced every time her skin would meet his and he tried to push all thoughts of Catherine out of his mind - a vain attempt to keep his dignity, and more importantly, his sanity.  
  
She motioned him to lie down on the bed. Bending down, she looped the silky material through the hoop in the mattress and secured it in place, making sure that his arm was completely restrained. Placing on knee on the mattress, her body hovered over his as she tied the other scarf to the loop, again making sure that the ties were doing their job.  
  
Gil stared at the ceiling, and tried to not raise his head; as his eyes had just caught a peek at Catherine's cleavage. Her tantalizing skin, and the swell of her breasts were causing his lower regions to misbehave and he desperately tried to think of something else to preoccupy his mind. When he felt her withdraw, he spoke up. "Remind me again how I let you talk me into this?"  
  
Catherine chuckled, a blindfold dangling between her thumb and index finger. "I guess I have really good," she leaned over him, this time aware that his gaze was drawn to her breasts, "arguments." She placed the blindfold on his head, letting her hands linger in his greying curls.  
  
Darkness engulfed his site, and though he was uncomfortable being bound to a mattress with his heart's desire hovering dangerously close, he trusted her with all his soul - the only person he felt brave enough to show his true self too.  
  
A shift. A gulp. A smirk. Things were looking up.  
  
—TBC— 


	3. Third Base

CHAPTER THREE (NC-17)  
  
--------------  
  
Catherine took a step back, a dominating smugness surrounding her. She couldn't deny the thrill that was building at her core as she watched him bound to the bed, completely unaware of his surroundings. She grinned as she observed him fidgeting, lifting his shoulders off the bed as he struggled against the restraints. Catherine smiled at her power, feeling a familiar warmth pool between her legs.  
  
Unbeknownst to Catherine, Gil was acutely aware of her exact location in the room; his loss of sight heightening his sense of hearing and smell. Taking a deep inhalation, a delightful mixture of strawberries and an unrecognizable tropical fruit journeyed to his nose. "Catherine?" The impatience in his voice was unmistakable, and once again he struggled against the silk ties.  
  
"Patience, grasshopper." She mocked, sauntering over to him. Her eyes feasted on his smooth chest, trailing down to the buckle of his black jeans. "I'm just trying to get you to sink into the character." She suppressed a giggle, knowing that his eyes must be burning with anger behind the blindfold.  
  
"Character? I'm a scientist, Catherine - not an actor!" He pulled against the scarves; nervousness, anger and lust causing him to become restless.  
  
Catherine let her tongue rest against the corner of her lip, his ire fuelling her desire for him. "So, what do we know?" She sat on the side of the bed, watching a frown develop on his face.  
  
"Why are we discussing this now -" another pull against his restraints, referring to his current position "- in this state?"  
  
"Setting the mood." She replied quickly. "Okay, he was under her control at the beginning and then she ended up on top of him, was shot and then flipped over. So how did they get from this," her hand rested on his chest, feeling him inhale sharply, "to their final resting place?" Kneeling on the bed, Catherine hesitated for a moment, then swung her right leg over him, straddling his waist.  
  
Gil held his breath as he felt Catherine shift on his abdomen. "Right, by the imprints of her knees on either side of his torso, we assume that she had to be in this position," he paused, trying to control his rapid heart beats, "or something closely related to it." He finally said, trying hard not to shuffle his body further up in order to feel her against his now straining arousal.  
  
Catherine unconsciously placed her hands against his chest, her eyes shooting to his blindfolded gaze, as soon as her palms touched his heated skin.   
  
"So..." Gil breathed out, "we have to find a way to get man on top of woman."   
  
Silence ensued his accidental innuendo.  
  
"... because we found Harding's blood embedded in McKenna's sternum, which insinuates that the bullet had to have passed through her before reaching him." Gil tried to fill the silence.  
  
"And the ligature marks show that it was indeed McKenna tied to the mattress, so..." He continued to babble, hoping to draw the attention away from his blatant desire.  
  
"Can you move at all?" Catherine interrupted, looking at his hands. She closed her eyes briefly, imagining those beautiful hands caressing, exploring, teasing ... loving her body.  
  
Gil wiggled slightly under her weight, "not really." He let out a slow breath, feeling her shift slightly lower. He chewed out his lower lip; his body in deep confrontation with his mind.  
  
"Again." Catherine ordered him, watching his biceps flex as he attempted to free himself from the silk material.  
  
"It's not working." Gil dropped both his hands against the mattress, allowing Catherine a peek at his sexy pout.  
  
"C'mon, you're not even trying." Catherine chided him, an evil grin hiding behind her eyes.  
  
"Cath!" Gil released her name, surprise evident in his voice. "I'm doing my best here ... I'm not really trained for this kind of stuff." He swallowed hard, afraid to show his vulnerable side. "It makes me nervous."   
  
His last statement was soft, but not lost to Catherine's ears. "Nervous? Why are you nervous, Gil - it's just me." Her tone grew comforting as she let her hand gently caress his skin, rubbing soothing circles into his being.  
  
He closed his eyes behind the blindfold, savouring her voice and touch while soaking in her distinct aroma. Her image danced behind lazy lids, and his skin burned with desire where her hands touched. "I know. It's just that we're in a very ..." He sighed, his head falling back against the pillow, along with his thoughts.  
  
"Compromising situation?" When she saw him nod, she let out a little laugh. "Just think of it as a scene from a movie ... a small act from a play." She purposely rubbed herself against his arousal. "We're set characters, in a set situation, interpreting set actions - we do our lines, then move on." She leaned over him, allowing her hair to tickle his face.  
  
Gil raised his hips off the bed, elevating Catherine slightly. "Catherine ..." He whispered. "Catherine, we shouldn't be doing this."   
  
Catherine's heart began to beat faster, feasting on the raw emotion dripping from his smooth, tenor voice. "It's just an experiment, Gil." She as much told herself as she did her supervisor and dreamed of lover.  
  
Gil arched his back, meeting her teasing hands as they caressed his chest, tripping from one nipple to the other. He let out a moan, feeling her warm breath against his skin; his stomach spasming as her tongue tasted him right above his navel.  
  
"Oh God." Gil rolled his head back against the pillow, his forehead touching the wooden headboard.  
  
Catherine sighed against his skin, the overpowering desire to devour him was soon taking control of her mind. Her mind acted passively as her libido began to take command, forcing her to follow lust's path instead of logic's journey ... allowing her to act in ways only her dreams permitted. She took another liberty of shifting her core lower, revelling against his hardness that she kept safe between her legs. Her eyes flicked to his as she heard her whispered name, and without second thought, she bent down, feverishly seeking out his lips.  
  
Gil could all but lie there, only able to respond with his lips. He arched his back as he felt her glide her hands across his chest and down to his pants; whereupon she popped open the button, folding the top of his pants open, allowing the top of the elastic band of his boxers into view.  
  
Catherine's fingers danced across his waist, until they reached his boxers and she began to slide her fingers back and forth, right under the elastic band, grazing his sensitive skin.  
  
"Catherine ..." It was almost a chant, and he could no longer hide the love that riddled his voice.  
  
Impulse's muse incited the slow peel of his pants, dragging them down his thighs, calves and feet, finally letting them drop to the floor.  
  
"Catherine ...?" Confusion lay heavy in his voice, as he felt her straddle his pelvis again, this time feeling skin on skin instead of the material of her slacks. Gil pulled against the ties, finally finding his voice. "Cath ... Cath, what are we doing?" He couldn't control the minute bucking against her - his desire stronger than his will. He exhaled roughly, trying to calm his overactive hips.  
  
"Don't you want this, Gil?" She leaned down, her tongue branding his neck and jaw, nipping, teasing and tasting.  
  
"No ... no we shouldn't." He said, unconvincingly. A pause settled. "God, you feel so good." He continued, his raised hips negating his previous false statement.  
  
Catherine let her hand travel between them as she ground her pelvis into his, memorizing the feel of his erection against her core. A duel spasm erupted as Catherine's hand touched herself and Gil at the same time.  
  
Gil moaned as her tongue made its way along his neck and up to his ear, shivering slightly as she wet his earlobe and gently tugged at it with her teeth. "Cath, please ... you have no idea what you are doing to me." His plea was answered with another brush against his arousal.  
  
"Oh, I think I have a vague impression." She knew that her unseen grin didn't go unnoticed, as an amicable frown settled across his lips. The activity near his mouth inspired her to take action, and she lunged, once again trapping his lips between hers. Her tongue infiltrated his mouth, forcing his to surrender to her being and a moan surfaced as his began to fight back, overpowering her 'spy'.  
  
He felt her withdraw slightly from his body, and though his mind deemed the action appropriate, his heart gasped in pain as the contact was broken. Gil struggled against the restraints, wanting to see her, feel her, touch her, please her. "Cath ..." It wasn't a warning, or a question, but almost a supplication - a request to return to the harbour. He felt her undulate back against his body, stretching atop of him: pelvis, tummy and "God ..." he exhaled, feeling her naked chest mate with his. He pushed himself into her, wanting his skin to absorb hers. "I want you so much, Cath ..." He whispered softly to her, no longer willing to hide his carnality. After a few moments of just feeding off each other's energy, his words lay suspended in the tense air. "I need you."  
  
Whispered with truth and vulnerability, Catherine pushed herself into a sitting position, allowing her hands to rest on the hard swell of his biceps, flexed from his fisted hands. "Do you love me?" She asked, her mind reading her heart's thoughts, slowly pushing her libido to a moment's side. She needed this affirmation, this sense of belonging. She watched him nervously chew out his lip, knowing that his eyes were staring straight at her, despite the clouding cloth.   
  
"I - I can't answer that." It was abrupt and without truth, causing him to shake his head, feeling disgusted with himself. "We can't do this ... we shouldn't." Again, his verity held no foundation, and he knew that his lies were in vain - these feelings had grown too powerful to hide, too important to deny ... too destined to keep from her. "Make love to me, Catherine." He lifted his darkened gaze, searching for her smell, aching to taste her. An overwhelming sense of completion forced a sigh when her lips met his, the impact guiding his head back down on the pillow. A hand caressed his cheek as another toyed with his salt-and-peppered curls.  
  
Catherine smiled, heart swelling at his demand and she sought his lips with a hunger never experienced before. As her lips tempted his, her hands reached between them, slowly pushing his boxers down his legs. When she returned to her original positions, Gil exhaled throatily at the feel of her naked core against his skin. "Cath," he paused as his laboured breath interrupted his flow of words, "Cath, I want to see you." He begged, his forehead once again pressed against the cool headboard.  
  
Light infiltrated his senses as the blindfold was gently removed and his eyes drank her natural beauty, presented to him - to his heart alone. "Thank you ..." he murmured, not only for the removal of the blindfold, but for giving him a chance to experience Nirvana, even if it was for a moment's worth.   
  
Catherine gazed into his eyes, seeing a familiar twinkle, but never having been interpreted until this moment in time. "Gil ...?"   
  
Her eyes asked all, and he nodded at her request. He pushed his head deep into the pillow, forcibly closing his eyes; trying not to give in to the sensation of her core enveloping him in an abyss of bliss.  
  
–TBC– 


	4. Homerun and Then Some

CHAPTER FOUR (Extremely strong R!)  
  
-----------------  
  
Gil groaned as he felt her slide down, creating a steady rhythm that both their hearts followed. He pulled at his restraints; his hands burning with desire to touch his 'Holy Grail'.   
  
Catherine continued to move against him, bending down at the waist to once again claim hold of his lips - lips she so longed to taste, to feel against her own. She let her hands trail down his shoulders and rest on his biceps, giving them a slight squeeze as the southward activity continued its slow rate.  
  
Gil then let out a strangled breath as he felt her increase her tempo, feeling her tighten against him. His name rushed forward on her ecstacied breath, and he felt her collapse against his chest, their lips still battling for victory.  
  
Catherine moved against, slowing down as her pinnacle began to descend, her heart rate following suite. She still felt him, hard and upright, buried deep within. She began to gently rock back and forth, wanting devilishly to hear him moan and beg.  
  
Gil complied with her silent demands, and panted loudly - he too wanting to achieve his release. "Please..." He sighed in frustration as she began to slow and he eyed her suspicious smile. "You're really enjoying watching me suffer." He thrust up into her with a grunt.  
  
Catherine chuckled, though it was masked by an uttering of bliss, as the force of his thrust propelled her upwards, causing her heart to jump at the feel of his animalistic side. "Oh, it gets me off to see you all tied up, Mr. Grissom." She whispered in his ear. She kissed him delicately on the forehead and propped herself up by pressing her palms to his chest, letting her fingers roam the surrounding environment. "Well, I'm done." She shrugged non-chalantly, wanting to feel his anger-driven lust - something about his carnal desires seemed to turn her on.  
  
"Cath..." He almost pleaded, feeling her begin to withdraw. "You can't just leave me here, like this..." He pulled against the restraints, lust and adrenaline clouding his mind. When he felt her slowly lift off his erection, he gave one final pull against the silk ties; blind lust fuelling his strength.  
  
Catherine heard a ripping noise and the next thing she knew, she was under the comfort of his body, her neck being ravished and her whole body experiencing a heightened buzz. She coaxed him on, loving the feel of him wildly pumping in to her.   
  
"Cath...Cath I'm so close." He whispered into her skin and gasped, feeling her legs wrap around his waist - granting him deeper access. His release taunted him, and he sped his thrusts in order to catch up. He shut his eyes forcibly and buried his head in her strawberry-blond curls as he slowly quickly ascended to his peak.   
  
The journey to his summit spawned a climactic reaction deep within Catherine's core and the heat transferred from his body to hers guided her to a shared resolution. She let her hands glide up and down his sweat-soaked back, and she brought up one, cupping the back of his head. Their chests heaved together, and they both stayed connected - mind and body.  
  
Gil didn't want to break contact, so he remained on top of her, hugging her body close to his. When breath finally permitted, he moved his mouth to her ear. "Cath, God, I'm so sorry." He stroked her hair and nuzzled her neck, painting her with light pecks. "I lost control...I -" He interrupted himself, reaching for her mouth, desperately wanting to convey his feelings through a slow, sensual kiss. He propped himself up, bracing himself with his arms, and took in her being: the sparkle in her eyes, her face glowing, her lips kissably bruised. He sighed contently and just gazed into her blues - though they differed in shades from his own, he knew that they held the same intention: love.  
  
Catherine smiled and pulled him down for another kiss. "Well, I guess we know how the ties broke." She giggled, letting her fingers trace over the ripped material, some still attached to his wrists.   
  
"The controller became the controlled." He stated, cocking his head to the side. His eyes refused to leave her form and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by his cell-phone. He pressed his lips together, and pulled out from her, both at once missing the contact. He sat on the side of the bed, and flipped open his phone. "Grissom." His voice was mellow, and he knew the receiver could hear his smile.   
  
Catherine knelt on the bed behind him, and began to run her hands up and down his back, finally resting them on his shoulders. She granted her lips a treat, pressing them to the side of his neck and sucking gently.   
  
Grissom's eyes closed slightly, letting out a deep moan. All of a sudden, his eyes widened at his behaviour and he dropped the phone. Both agents stared at the open phone on the floor; Jim's questioning voice filling the air.  
  
Catherine buried her head in the pillow to stifle her chuckles; Gil's cross look guiding the chuckles into a full-fledged guffaw.  
  
"Brass, sorry about that." Gil muttered into the phone, shooting Catherine an amused look. "Yeah, just stretching my tired muscles." He lied, his hand reaching for hers. He laced their fingers together as he continued listening to information relayed by the police captain. He lay back on the bed, snapping his cell phone shut. "We have to head back to the lab, Brass has some evidence, as does Robbins." He sighed, kissing her fingertips. He couldn't fight off the butterflies in his tummy as his thoughts fluttered to moments ago. He tugged her gently by the arm, pulling half of her body on top of him; wrapping his arms around her slender frame, holding her heart close to his. After moments of comfortable silence, his dry voice woke the deaf, "we're going to be late, aren't we?"  
  
A Cheshire smile confirmed it all.

* * *

Gil walked into his office, a yawn scrunching up his face.  
  
"Nice of you to finally show up." Jim smiled knowingly.   
  
The supervisor presented an innocent look, and hoped his interest would keep up the charade, as she breezed into the room.  
  
"Sorry." She held up her hands in defence. "Woman stuff." She threw Gil a sultry smile and turned her attention to the Captain. "So, what do you have for us?" She sat down on the couch, squeezing her thighs together. Her core still tingled, and reacted even more heavenly when her heart took a seat beside her.  
  
"Well, I conducted some interviews, and it turns out that neighbours in the next room over swear that they heard two male voices." Jim looked up from his notes. "Party hearty."  
  
Catherine raised her eyebrow. "Hey, we shouldn't judge." She smiled. "So, do we know who the mystery man is?"   
  
Jim shook his head. "Still looking, no witnesses. I even asked the receptionist, but she claims that only Sherry Harding and Sean McKenna entered that room." He spoke, heading out the door. "I'll keep you posted if there are any other leads."  
  
Catherine stood facing the door which Jim had taken, and a small smile crept its way to her lips, upon feeling gentle hands grab at her waist. Soft lips branded her neck, sucking slowly as she let out a breathy moan. "When you take such liberties, you should really consider closing the door." Catherine grinned.  
  
Gil mumbled into her neck, deriving pleasure from the mere taste of her skin. "Cath..." He panted, leaning his forehead against the back of her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands clasping together right under her bellybutton. "I haven't been honest with you lately..."  
  
Catherine cocked her head to the side, letting it rest against his. Her heart fell, fearing that his words would bruise her already battered heart. She couldn't stand another rejection - not one from Gil. "Let's go see Robbins, okay?" Her voice was small, knowing her attempted interruption would be in vain. She just wanted her fantasy to last as long as possible. "Okay?" She tried to move towards the door, but felt his hands tighten around her mid-section, drawing her closer into his embrace.  
  
"Lately..." He laughed, repeating himself. He glanced up, his lips lightly brushing her ear. "Feels like I've been lying to you for a life time." His gaze grew apologetic. His hands dropped to the side, and his being achingly distanced itself from her's. He closed his office door, making sure to lock both within. "We're friends, right Cath?" He turned abruptly, surprising her with such a random question.  
  
Catherine eyed the blue-eyed man curiously. Her heart made it's final preparations; a casket appearing in her emotional mind. "Yeah..."   
  
"Best friends?"   
  
She wanted to mock such ridiculous questioning, but the vulnerability his soul mirrored was touching and she merely nodded a confirmation. Silence caressed her ears, and when the deafness threatened her sanity, words flew without thought. "God! What do you want, Gil?! Do you want me to pretend it never happened? Do you want me to count it on my one night stands, my rejections, my 'in-the-moment' moments?! Do you want me to just forget about it? What do you want?!" Her ranting would have continued its course if not for the man with the docile nature.  
  
"I want more." He charged her, his lips crying for hers as he enveloped her in his warm embrace. "I've always wanted more." He breathed into her, attacking her mouth with desperate love.   
  
She pulled back, her tongue sweeping across her lower lip, still tasting him. "Gil..." She gave him a peck on the lips and gazed into his eyes. "You know how I feel..."  
  
He gave her a genuine smile, echoing back the same love. "Let's go see what Robbins has for us." Intent to place a gentle kiss was forgotten as he felt her passion battle with his, and they unwillingly pushed themselves apart. "We're going to get in trouble, I can feel it." He gave her a crooked smile.  
  
"Only if we do it well." She teased, heading out the door.

* * *

Al Robbins greeted both senior CSIs with a smile. "I'm here all night." He commented sarcastically. His eyes fell upon the supervisor's neck and the doctor raised his eyebrows in silent question.  
  
Gil couldn't hide his blush, and scrubbed a hand over the branded patch of skin.  
  
Catherine grinned cheekily, and walked over to the two bodies, beside her secret lover. "What do you have?"  
  
"Well, I did some vaginal tests on Sherry Harding, and found seminal samples." Al offered, limping over to the other side.  
  
"We already established sexual intercourse, considering we found them still ..." Gil hesitated, searching for the word.   
  
"Connected." Catherine offered.  
  
"Right, but I ran a DNA check on the semen recovered despite already inferring that the sample must be from Sean McKenna." Al held up a paper with two DNA charts on it.  
  
"Two different sets of DNA?" Gil asked, handing the papers to Catherine.   
  
"Girl gets around." Catherine muttered. "I guess this confirms the suspicion of the third party."  
  
"Well, one set of DNA was found within her vaginal walls, but I also conducted an anal swab, and that's where I located the second set of seminal DNA.."Al shrugged.   
  
Gil nodded. "Okay, so we know that she was with two men, at the same time ... now we just need to identify the 'three' of the 'some'." He held up the paper. "Thanks."   
  
Catherine grinned, following Gil out the door. "I love it when we have a lead."   
  
"Why? Because we are a step closer to catching the bad guy." He asked, glancing over his shoulder at her.  
  
She quickened her pace to catch up to him. "No because you get this adorable cocky grin on your face. I love it." She blushed at her admission.  
  
Gil chuckled and slung his arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple. "...love you." He stated plainly, but not void of truth.

* * *

They stepped into the lab, having distangled themselves before reaching their destination. They both glanced at the spikey-haired technician bopping his head to some screeching he called music. "Greg?" Gil tried to get his attention. He grabbed his chair and swung him around, facing both him and Catherine.   
  
"Oh, hey!" He turned down the stereo. "Got Robbins' semen." Greg pressed his lips together from laughing. "Well, not the good doctor's semen but the sample he..." He trailed off, flashing the two senior CSIs a sheepish grin.  
  
Catherine giggled, more so at Gil's unamused look. "Do you have the results?"   
  
"For a fair maiden such as yourself, I ask but a kiss in return for yonder paper." Greg exaggeratedly pursed his lips, leaning towards the strawberry-blond.  
  
Gil grimaced at the lab tech's behaviour. "Greg."  
  
Catherine grinned, flashing him a dazzling smile before turning her attention back to the lab rat. "Greg, maybe we should keep the flirting to a minimal - Gil might get a little jealous." She stated without thinking. The silenced after-math caused her to re-evaluate her thoughts, and she cringed at the information revealed.  
  
Gil raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the lab rat, poised at the edge of his seat, lips still pursed uncouthly, though wide-eyed and examining both CSIs as if they were pieces of evidence.  
  
"Now I know you guys are really close - real tight," he knitted his fingers together, "but I guess I should rely on Grissom to tell me just how tight Cat -"  
  
"- Greg." Gil's stable voice interrupted the bold tech.  
  
Greg awaited to be chewed out by the supervisor but was saved by the machine's signal. "Ooh, hot off the presses." He eagerly distanced himself from the irate CSI and rushed over to his work station. "Okay, so the DNA from the vaginal swab that Robbins gave me is indeed, Sean McKenna." He handed them a paper. "And drum roll please -"  
  
Gil rolled his eyes and snatched the paper from Greg's hands. His eyes danced from the paper in hand, to meet those of his partner. "What was that about trusting men with ... three first names?"

* * *

John Jacob Tyler sat smugly in front of Jim and both senior CSIs. He glanced at his lawyer, giving her a small wink and then rested his gaze on the strawberry-blond in front of him. "So...what's this about?"  
  
Catherine rolled her eyes, disgusted with his overly-confident act. She knew these kind of men, self-proclaimed macho-men who did all of their thinking with their -   
  
"This is about Sean McKenna and Sherry Harding." Brass interrupted Catherine's line of thought.  
  
"Yeah? What about them?" He slouched in his chair, opening his legs up while staring at Catherine, defiantly.  
  
Catherine felt Gil tense, and she placed her hand on his thigh, trying to calm his anger. "Were you at the Farewell Motel with Sherry and Sean?"  
  
"Yeah. We had some," he paused, letting out a chuckle, "fun."  
  
"And when you left the motel, both Sherry Harding and Sean McKenna were alive?" Jim asked, scribbling down some notes.  
  
"Yeah." John answered curtly. "Can I go now?" The silent room stood still for him. "Look, I admitted to taking part in Sean's crazy little gift for Sherry - that's not a crime."  
  
"Yeah, but your actions after the sex is what's in question." Gil added, his eyes never ceasing to observe.  
  
"Oh, so the threesome was Sean's idea?" Catherine asked.   
  
"And poor old John, always pushed to the backseat." Jim teased. "It must have upset you, having to lie back and watch your ex be steered by some kink of the street."   
  
John grimaced. "He wanted to be tied up." He shook his head. "That guy had serious problems. Anyway, she was already riding him when I showed up. So I just took whatever -"  
  
"- Mr. Tyler." His lawyer interrupted him from any more crude remarks.  
  
"...was offered." John said, with a sly grin.  
  
"And at any point were you under Ms. Harding?" Catherine asked.  
  
"Yeah, I guess the guy got off so well that he ripped his restraints and that's when I left. It was getting way too weird." He let out a snort. "Wasn't even fulfilling, if you get my drift." He wiggled his eyebrows at Catherine.  
  
"So...you weren't angry that you were knocking at the back door?" Jim added coyly, not afraid to rile the suspect up.  
  
"Yeah, I was pissed off, okay?! She was my girl and I don't even get front row tickets?" John slammed his hand on the table. "But that doesn't mean I killed her."   
  
Gil's head cocked to the side at his statement.   
  
"I think we're done." John's lawyer stood up and directed her client to the door.  
  
Jim sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Damn, I wanted to get that guy, real bad."  
  
Catherine shook her head. "I think everyone who has had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Tyler has probably thought the same thing." She muttered.  
  
Gil glanced back as the door opened, revealing friend and chief medical examiner, Al Robbins. He stood up to greet the man he had just seen an hour before. "And to what do I owe this visit?" Gil asked, a small smirk playing across his lips.  
  
"Well, I was just about to put Mr. McKenna under the wash, before sending him off to be embalmed, but I noticed some substance on his skin." Al handed Gil a paper.  
  
"Semen?" Gil looked up and then at Catherine.  
  
Al nodded. "Yeah, mostly near his rectum, and I checked for penetration and there's no bruising."  
  
"So, someone just ... jacked off?" Catherine spoke bluntly. She offered her lover a shy smile at his amused look.   
  
"And..." Al handed Gil another paper. "Sherry's gunshot wound - .45 semi-automatic." He pointed at the picture clipped to the informative paper. "Look at the wound, it's large, very large. And the GSR around it, widely spread..." Al trailed off.  
  
"Almost as if the gun had been at an extremely close proximity to the deceased." Catherine picked up on Al's trail.  
  
Gil brought a finger up to his lips, deep in thought. "I think we need to see Mr. Tyler again."

* * *

Gil leaned against the wall, observing the suspect for the second time that day. They were fortunate enough to catch him as he was exiting the building. After much protest from his lawyer, reluctantly, he was marched back into the interrogation room. "Would you say that you are a proud man, Mr. Tyler?"  
  
John looked at his lawyer, perplexed. "Yeah, I don't think anyone wants to be seen as a moron."  
  
Gil nodded. "So, when you were humiliated, you couldn't pass up the opportunity to return the favour, could you?"  
  
"What...I have no idea what you're talking about." He stood up abruptly. "This is harassment!"  
  
"Sit down!" Jim commanded the bold youth.  
  
John sat down hard, glaring at Jim. "I didn't kill Sherry!" He repeated his earlier statement.  
  
Gil paused, tossing a file down in front of him. "You said you left when Mr. McKenna broke the restraints?" Upon receiving a confirming nod from John's direction, the supervisor pressed on. "I think Sean McKenna broke the restraints and flipped Sherry over, with you still in her."  
  
John's lawyer laughed. "On what basis? Your twisted mind?"  
  
"See this gunshot wound? It was fired at a very close proximity to the victim. That's why there's these burn marks on her back, with a large amount of gunshot residue." Gil explained. "I think I know how the bullet ended up in Sean McKenna's body."  
  
John shifted nervously in his chair. "Yeah? How." His confidence tried to make an appearance, but his fear was too strong of a contender.  
  
"We know you have a registered gun, Mr. Tyler." Jim leaned on the table. "Would you care to tell me what caliber it is?"   
  
John glanced at his lawyer. "It was stolen."  
  
Jim feigned pity. "Oh, that's a shame." He shook his head. "And you didn't report it?" The older man held up his hand, interrupting the suspect's words. "Save it."   
  
"You were embarrassed at the second-hand treatment you were getting, and my guess is that Sean McKenna probably didn't make your situation any more pleasant." Gil stated.  
  
"Did you get tired of her calling out his name?" Jim provoked.  
  
"That bitch!" John stood up, burning with fury. "She didn't even let me touch her when we were going out!" He bit his lip ferociously. "She was ... saving herself!" He punched the wall. "And she hops into bed with that sex maniac, and then has the gall to invite me over to 'play'?!"   
  
"So you took all that you got ... and then finished the deal." Catherine shook her head.  
  
"I just need to know....did you ever see her face?" Jim asked boldly, an evil smirk not unseen.  
  
"Hey! Watch it!" John's lawyer protested, to which the captain merely put up his hands in defence - a sign of lenience.  
  
"Okay, so while she's riding you, backwards," Catherine grimaced, "and Sean is going at it," you reach to the side, and press a gun to her back. The bullet travels through her, and lodges itself in McKenna." Catherine shook her head. "Two victims, one bullet."  
  
"And as a final act of humiliation, you tied Sean McKenna's hands behind his back and proceeded to masturbate over his back." Gil sat down beside Catherine. "You cleaned up pretty well, but I think you forgot about your friend: gravity."  
  
"Upon conducting an anal swab, we found traces of your semen." Catherine informed the suspect, who had grown curiously quiet.  
  
"So I guess threesomes don't get you off...." Jim nodded towards the guard. "But murder certainly seemed to do the trick."

* * *

Gil settled down on his couch, sprawling out on his back, his head on Catherine's lap. His eyes slowly drifted closed, content with the close quarters and the comfortable silence that encompassed the lovers.   
  
"Funny how the weirdest things can get people off." Catherine commented absentmindedly, her fingers dancing through his peppered curls.  
  
"I'm just glad I found the one thing that does it for me." He mumbled, sleepily.  
  
"Oh?" She let her hand trail down to his chest, rubbing lazy circles on his shirt's fabric. "And what would that be?"  
  
"You."  
  
Catherine rolled her eyes. "You're probably just saying that to get me into bed."  
  
Gil glanced up, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Yeah." He admitted, though she knew the Cheshire cat was not far behind.  
  
"C'mon, let's head home." She pushed herself off his office's couch, prompting him to straighten up as well.   
  
On their way out, Gil grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips, he placed a feather kiss on her knuckles. "Hey, this time, can I lead?" His lip fell into a pout, trying to incite the strawberry-blond to give-in.  
  
Catherine snorted. "Yeah, we'll see." She said, grabbing his hand and leading him to the parking lot.

* * *

Greg watched through the break room window, as the two senior CSIs exchanged kisses and each drove off, one Denali following the other. "Man, Grissom is sooo whipped!"  
  
–Finis– 


End file.
